


You Make Me Feel Invincible

by Bennyhatter



Series: Shifter 'Verse [5]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Author is terrible at tagging, Danny is a Shifter, It's that time, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Shifters, Shifters are known, So is Danny, Someone Hug Steve McGarrett, Steve is a stubborn fucker, Torture, WILL YOU TWO JUST SEX ALREADY JESUS, Wo Fat - Freeform, episode-related, what is tagging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-28 03:26:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12597136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bennyhatter/pseuds/Bennyhatter
Summary: In the aftermath of his torture at Wo Fat's hands, Steve learns something about himself that might change everything. Or nothing.





	You Make Me Feel Invincible

**Author's Note:**

> Well this is delayed. Iunno guys this one fought me so hard for some reason. I'm kind of happy with it, kind of not, so I guess we'll see how things go from here.
> 
> THEY WILL SEX NEXT TIME DAMN IT. I DEMAND IT.
> 
> Sorry. Too little sleep, way too much shit and stress IRL, and just a basket of screaming cats. These are my excuses.
> 
> Enjoy~

There's blood caked around his mouth and burns across his chest; marks from cigarettes and cattle prods and one angry, blistered snakeskin-looking pattern from a glowing chunk of ember. That one had made Steve scream until he'd felt something in his throat tear. He's got lacerations over his pectorals and down his ribs and slivers of skin missing from every Shifter scar they could find. Blood runs in tacky trails down his arms, dripping from wrists wrapped in chains and thick leather. His shoulders scream in protest from the position they've been kept in; he can barely brace the balls of his feet against the cold, wet concrete for just a moment of respite. He's slick with sweat and blood, his hair is a matted, tangled mess and there's a cut across his left temple that makes his eyes look even more wild against the backdrop of blood and hatred rolling from his pores.

Steve bares red teeth in a challenging grin.

“That all you got?” he taunts, shaking his wrists to make the chains rattle and keeping the agony from flaring across his face through a mixture of willpower and experience. “Do you even _know_ what you're asking about?”

Compared to him, Wo Fat looks like he's ready to attend a charity gala. He's dressed in all black like a walking cliché, the sleeves of his tailored dress shirt rolled up to expose forearms tight with tension. He's trying to look composed and failing, badly. Steve can almost smell the anger churning behind his cracking mask, he can see the seedlings of fear growing in the man's eyes, and he cackles until another solid punch snaps his head to the side. He bites his tongue and spits out blood, swinging from his suspension and snarling when he finally rotates back to face his captor.

“Where is Shelburne?” Wo Fat repeats coldly. Steve snorts and drops his head, glaring from beneath heavy brows as his lips twitch and curl back. His sharp eyes catch the way the man shifts just slightly, like he was about to step back before stopping himself. Steve knows what he looks like, primal rage wrapped in human skin; a rabid animal coiling to lash out with the promise of destruction tightening every muscle until the second he explodes.

“I'm gonna kill you,” he says with a conviction that is strong and unwavering -- a vow that he will fulfill no matter what it takes. Wo Fat has done unspeakable things, more than Steve can even guess at, and he's going to die for it. It won't be a quick death, because Steve stopped feeling charitable a long time ago; long before the man in front of him put bullets into Governor Jameson and tried to pin it on Steve. This is a hatred that's been brewing for _years_ ; Wo Fat is just the catalyst that's set it all free.

The monster in Steve’s chest lifts its head and roars through sharp, gleaming teeth. It's a roar he echoes, fresh blood bubbling past his lips that sprays out in a fine red mist.  A few specks splatter across Wo Fat’s cheeks and he does step back this time, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and wiping it away without ever taking his eyes off Steve.

“You're going to die like the animal you are,” he says quietly, menacingly, and Steve lets out a savage bark of laughter.

“We'll see about that,” he sneers. “Until then, how ‘bout you tell me what you did to drag Jenna to your side. Last I knew, she wanted you dead just as badly as I did.”

Jenna’s betrayal still hurts like a raw, open wound in his chest. She’d been so desperate for help, so earnest, and Steve had bought it because he knows what it’s like now to love someone so much that you’d do anything to get to them. If someone took Danny from him, Steve would carve a bloody path across O’ahu. That’s why he hadn’t hesitated when Jenna had begged him to help her get her fiancé back. Danny had been wary, he’d said something hadn’t felt right, but Steve had kissed him and joked and promised he’d think about him the whole time he was gone.

He should have fucking listened to Danny.

“I have learned throughout my life that everyone has a bargaining chip.” Wo Fat looks him up and down, his lips twisted into a scowl that darkens his handsome features. He looks half-mad, he looks _rabid_ , and Steve keeps his lips pulled back as a noise not unlike a growl rumbles in his chest. The monster beneath his skin is howling; the taste of his own blood makes him snap his teeth against empty air. “Miss Kaye just had a very easy one. Love, Commander McGarrett, will make people do some pretty outlandish things, including coming halfway around the world on nothing but hope alone.”

“So you lied to her,” Steve spits.

Wo Fat’s smile is chilling. “I did not lie to her. She just did not ask the right questions.”

As if on cue, a heartbreaking scream rises from somewhere deeper in the building. Steve lunges against his restraints and feels fresh blood run down his arms as the wounds on his wrists open further. He snarls and lunges again, too far gone to care about pain or discomfort. He bellows and drives Wo Fat back to a safe distance; kicking off the floor for more leverage and fighting to be free as red overtakes his vision until a fist snaps his head to the side. He’s quick to bite, teeth just barely catching flesh, and then the blows seem to come from all angles. They land against his shoulders and his stomach, sharp points of agony that sear over his wounds and drag an enraged howl from Steve’s torn throat. He slams his head forward and grins when he makes contact; Wo Fat stumbles back and spits out a curse. The hit was enough to break his nose, and Steve enjoys the sight of the blood coating his mouth and chin. It’s not enough, not _nearly_ enough, but it’s a start.

“Where is Shelburne?” Wo Fat hisses. He’s back in Steve’s space, anger making him sloppy, and Steve takes advantage of it while he has the chance. He wraps his hands in the chains to hold his weight and jumps; wraps his legs around the man’s thin waist and drags him close enough to sink his teeth into the juncture where neck blends into shoulder. He gets a mouthful of skin and cloth and wrenches his head to the side until he tastes fresh blood and Wo Fat’s shout in his ear is almost deafening. Steve bites down harder, snarling through torn flesh and muscle, and he only lets go when the door slams open and men drag Jenna back into the room. She’s pale and heartbroken, her eyes wet with tears and wide with terror when she sees them. Wo Fat punches Steve in the temple hard enough to stun him and tears himself free. He acts like the blood covering his face and throat is of no consequence – fixes his shirt and breathes while Steve whines and shakes his head to clear his vision.

“Thank you for joining us again, Miss Kaye,” Wo Fat says pleasantly, like they’re having a fucking lunch date and she’d just stepped out for a moment. Steve watches as she’s chained to the wall, his hatred a live thing pacing in his chest. It ripples beneath the surface and heightens his senses until the world is an overwhelming percussion of sound.

“Let her go,” he rasps, as docile as he can be for the moment with a civilian so close. Jenna is in danger, he knows she is; as much as her betrayal hurts, she was following her heart. Steve can understand that, even if he’s furious that it was Wo Fat who convinced her to play along. He would destroy the world to get to Danny – her love can’t be that much different, if she was willing to go to this length for her fiancé. Once Steve figures out a way to get them out of this hellish bunker, he’ll let her explain her actions. He’ll be mad – no doubt there – but she deserves that much. After Wo Fat is dead, she’ll have all the time in the world to grieve and make amends if she wants. They just need to get _away_ , first.

Jenna catches his eye and Steve stares at her. Wo Fat has turned his back to them, he’s letting his men clean his wounds and give him updates; he’s not paying attention to them. She mouths something, she might even speak, but the blood is roaring in Steve’s ears like a violent beast and he can’t make out what she’s saying. He does see the thin, metal pin clutched in her fingers; her quick glance at their captor before she slides the pin toward Steve with as much force as she can. It comes close enough for him to grab it with his toes and curl it out of sight and he tries to smile at her, tries to tell her that it will be okay.

The momentary burst of gratefulness is cut too short when Wo Fat turns around with a gun and shoots Jenna Kaye in the chest, and Steve’s roar shakes the walls as the monster beneath his skin erupts.

 

\--

 

He barely hears the explosion that takes out the bridge in front of them, but he feels the vehicle shudder to a stop beneath him. He lifts his head and growls quietly; the guard watching him points his gun but doesn’t say anything. Steve can’t lash out, not with his hands and feet tied, but he can snap his teeth at the man before laying his head down again and watching the sliver of light coming through the truck’s back flap. He sees the forest around them and feels when they start to back up. The convoy has to turn around; he smells smoke and fire and grins even though he knows he’s going to die. Wo Fat will take him to a new hideout, he’ll demand to know answers that Steve cannot give him – answers that Steve thought _Wo Fat_ had – and he’ll be put down the same way as Jenna Kaye was. Or maybe Wo Fat will make it last longer for him; Steve did kill several of his men after he freed himself. He’d torn them apart with his teeth and hands and far more strength than any human should possess. It had felt like a live current through his blood, like lightning crackling over his skin. It had driven him from his cell after checking Jenna’s body; had kept him quiet as he slunk through the underground bunker and killed any guards who came his way. He can still feel it now, a comforting buzz in his muscles, and he wonders if this is what Danny’s shifting feels like.

It feels _good_.

He’s not expecting the gunfire, but Steve is too weak to do much more than force himself into a sitting position and bare his teeth. His guard is quick to help, jumping from the back of the truck and nearly blinding him with the sudden influx of bright light. Steve squints and listens to the sounds of battle unfolding around him; gunfire and grenades and yelling, and louder than all of that, a bloodcurdling snarl.

The fight doesn’t last long – he hadn’t expected it to. Whoever ambushed the convoy did so with intent; they knew it would be coming this way, so they laid in wait for Wo Fat and his men to roll right into their trap. Steve can hear them being torn apart by bullets and teeth; he can track the Shifter’s path through sound alone. When the silence falls, he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

The light against his eyelids brightens until he cracks them open again. He sees massive paws and an enormous head; the angles aren’t in his favor, throwing the Shifter’s features into darkness, but he can see a blunt muzzle and the shine of intelligent eyes. The creature drops out of sight for a second before it returns, leaping into the back of the truck and padding toward him slowly. It’s covered in blood; red drips from his muzzle and stains its chest and shoulders like dark, wet ink. It’s a promise and a threat simultaneously, power and ferocity in the form of a massive beast. Steve bares his teeth and growls; the Shifter stops and crouches down with a whine, looking at him with dark golden eyes. Steve tastes lightning on his tongue, he feels it buzz louder in his ears, and he lets his lips cover his teeth again when the realization pierces through the fog of _ragehatesurvive_ clouding his mind.

“Danny,” he whispers, and he sees the Shifter’s thin tail wag before the dog is suddenly in his space. He’s whining softly, licking the blood from Steve’s face and throat and down his arms until he gets to the rope and growls. Sharp teeth gnaw at it, the Shifter turning his head to the side and giving Steve a better profile of his face as he works to free the SEAL. Steve stays very still until the bloody rope falls away, and then he’s got the Shifter’s head caught between his head. “Danny,” he says again, emotion making his voice crack, and Danny waits patiently while Steve looks at his partner’s second skin for the first time. He can’t see much, not in the dim interior of the truck, but he can see enough to grin crookedly.

“This makes so much sense now,” he jokes – or tries to – and Danny makes an annoyed chuffing noise before chewing through the ropes binding Steve’s ankles. He stays close, offering to be Steve’s anchor, and he leans gratefully on his best friend’s solid weight. “I want to go home,” he murmurs, dizziness and pain making him feel weak and flayed open, _vulnerable_ , and Danny’s claws tick against the wooden truck bed as he guides Steve – who can’t stop running his hand over his partner’s short, silky fur. He’s got his free one held up in case he needs to brace against anything, but the other is running up and down Danny’s spine, feeling the thick muscles bunching and relaxing beneath the surface as they move and marveling at just how _big_ Danny is like this. He’s bigger than any dog Steve has ever seen; his shoulder is almost at Steve’s lowest ribs. Most Shifts are usually the same size as their animal cousins, although some can get slightly larger. Steve has _never_ seen a Shifter of any breed that was so much larger than their kin.

The back flap lifts before Danny can nose it up, and Steve stares at Joe and Chin until Kono and Lori come around the side of the truck. Their faces light up with relief when they see him; he can smell it rising thickly from his pack, cutting through the scent of fear and the comforting smell of fierce determination. It’s more than he’s ever been able to smell before and it’s overwhelming enough that Steve sways until multiple hands catch him and guide him out of the truck. Danny jumps out behind him and Steve turns away from Chin’s concerned face to get a proper look at his partner.

It doesn’t surprise him at all that Danny is a pitbull, when he thinks about it. The Shifter is tenacious and strong – he’s stubborn but fiercely loyal to those he considers _pack_. He loves to a degree that is all his own and that love drives him to do more, to push harder. Danny doesn’t know when the hell to quit, but at the end of the day his capacity for _love_ is what awes Steve the most. It’s what makes him love Danny back to a degree that terrifies him, because he’s never been so connected to another person on so many levels.

Danny looks up at him and tilts his head to the side. Steve has to touch again, he can’t not, so he starts with the soft, silver ears. He rubs one between his fingers and smiles at the blissed look that slackens the pitbull Shift’s face. Danny’s bloody muzzle opens and he pants happily, his tongue lolling out in a smile that is a trademark for his breed. Steve is hit with a feeling of love so powerful that he has to sit down before he falls, so he sits right in front of Danny and looks up as his hands roam over thick muscle and soft fur. He grins when he sees the way the Shifter’s fur blends from silver to tan – a similar shade to the blonde he’s become so familiar with – and then to white that has been painted red with drying blood. He leans forward and presses his face against Danny’s chest, breathing him in and feeling the Shifter’s head curl over his shoulder protectively. Steve’s arms slip under the canine’s front legs and he hugs him as tightly as he can, ignoring the pain from his injuries and the wetness he feels against his eyelashes as he presses a kiss over the Shifter’s heart. He doesn’t care about the blood that gets left behind on his lips because their life is full of threats that crowd in from every direction. Not a day goes by that they don’t get shot at, injured, or forced to do things that would send most people fleeing in the other direction. Hawaii is their home and they have done a few unspeakable things to keep the islands safe, things that Steve has done before but Danny never had, not until the day they pointed guns at each other in John McGarrett’s garage. It was all over after that, even if they didn’t know it; one single moment in time that led to chases and anger and passion and _this_ ; Steve clinging to a Shifter in the middle of a forest in North Korea, trembling subtly and wounded but _alive_.

“I love you,” he chokes out, and Danny whines. The sound reverberates from his chest and into Steve, digging down into his bones, into his _soul_ , and settling in place in a way no one ever has before. He fills Steve until he overflows, spilling passion and lightning like an unchecked storm that swells between them; breaking against their bodies and spraying like seafoam, and it shouldn’t surprise Steve at all that their love smells like the home he spent so long running from, only to come back and find more than he’d ever thought he would. He came back and found _Danny_ ; he found Five-0 and a purpose after he thought he’d having nothing. Danny licks his ear and Steve shudders at the heat that blooms inappropriately. Danny rumbles and he _shivers_ , and then Joe is there with gentle hands and calming words, separating them even when they both growl at him and bare their teeth.

“We’ve gotta go, son,” the Commander says gently. “There’s plenty of time for this later, I promise. For now, let’s get you home.”

 _Home_. He’d love nothing more than to go home, but they’re not finished here. Not yet.

“Wo Fat,” he whispers, because that’s a loose end they can’t afford to walk away from. Chin crouches down beside him with a sharp grin and glittering eyes; the scent of his satisfaction reminds Steve of gunpowder.

“It’s a pretty bad idea to try and outrun a Shifter on a mission,” he comments with a shrug. He points and Steve looks; dark, furious eyes glare back at him. Wo Fat had probably expected many things – Steve doubts having his leg torn open by a Shifter was one of them. He’ll never walk right again; he barely has a knee or calf left. He’s bleeding heavily but he’s not going to die yet, and the satisfaction of seeing him ruined sits warmly in Steve’s abdomen. Commander Wade Gutches and two of his men from SEAL Team 9 are standing guard over him, their guns aimed at his torso.

He’s not going anywhere.

“Home,” Steve echoes, turning to look up at Danny again. “Fuck, you’re big,” he chuckles before he can stop himself. Danny bares his teeth but his eyes are bright; Steve pulls him down to press a kiss against his warm, wet nose and smiles so wide it hurts when the Shifter licks his chin. “Yeah,” he decides, his voice rough and cracking; the beast in his chest curls up to sleep, its work done. “Let’s go home.”

 

\--

 

“I’ve gotta say, you’ve come a long way since I met you, son.”

Steve cracks an eye open and looks at Joe with a tired smile. “Considering the years, that’s saying something,” he mutters. He shouldn’t be this exhausted, not when he spends so many hours of his day resting now. It’s frustrating as hell that they won’t let him leave the hospital yet, but the doctors at Honolulu’s army base insist that he needs more time to heal. He suffered a decent amount of trauma at Wo Fat’s hands – torture, dehydration, emotional distress; they have a list, which Steve finds _ridiculous_ , but the fact that he was tortured alone means they’ve decided to keep him for observation until they’re certain he’s fit to return to the civilized world.

Steve may have broken a doctor’s nose when he found out. It didn’t make them too eager to release him quicker after that. Danny had been the one to calm him down after that incident, a steady presence at the foot of Steve’s bed radiating disapproval until he’d resigned himself to this bland, antiseptic-scented room for the foreseeable future. At least his friends are still allowed to visit; the tiny table beside his bed is overflowing with flowers and get-well-soon cards and, thanks to Kono, one very large, very soft stuffed animal dog. Its floppy ears are soft, and it looks nothing like Danny’s Shift, but Steve still smiles when he sees it.

“How are you today?” Joe sits in one of the empty chairs beside Steve’s bed and crosses his arms as he relaxes back. He looks well-rested and comfortable, two things Steve can’t help but resent him for. Between the nightmares and spending a week in this unfamiliar place where people keep poking and prodding at all the raw places inside of him, Steve hasn’t been sleeping well. He’s uncomfortable, he feels _caged_ , but they won’t let him do anything but go on short, supervised walks between his sessions with the doctors and his appointed psychiatrist. The man is nice, if a little dull. He’s walked through the torture with Steve, he’s given him exercises to help when he feels the panic spike, and he preaches _rest_ the same as everyone else does. Steve is _rested_ , he’s _fine_ , but they won’t let him fucking _leave_.

“I want to go home,” he growls, the same petulant words he’s spoken at least four times a day since the day he woke up in a hospital bed with Danny hovering over him. He barely remembers the helicopter ride; he remembers Chin announcing that he’s going to marry Malia, and asking Steve to be the best man, but everything else is a blur of pain and profound _relief_. He doesn’t even remember Danny shifting back – as far as he can remember, his partner had still been a pitbull when they’d jumped onto the helicopter; curled up against Steve’s side as an anchor he’d slumped against once the realization that he was _safe_ had seeped far enough into his brain.

“You’ll go home when you’re ready,” Joe says, like it’s just that simple. Steve bares his teeth and growls quietly, rolling out of bed to pace his small room in familiar trails he’s practically worn into the floor by now.

“I was ready a _week_ ago,” he grumbles. His former Commander turns to follow his pattern and arches an eyebrow at him, looking unimpressed.

“That why they tell me you’re still waking up screaming, three nights out of five?”

Steve can’t say much to that, even if he wants to. He glares out the window instead, taking in what he can of the view from where he’s standing in the center of the room, trying not to claw out of his fucking skin. “I’m fine, Joe; I’ve had worse and you know it.”

“Yes, you have. While you were an active SEAL; you haven’t been active in over a year, Steve. Whether you like it or not, time changes certain things.” There’s a knowing light in Joe’s eyes when Steve looks at him, his attention drawn by everything the man who’s been part of his life for years isn’t saying. “Some of them for the better,” he adds.

“Yeah, well, I’ve had some people in my life to help with that.” Looking out the window again, he thinks of his team – his _pack_ – and can’t help but smile. “They’re good people, Joe. You know they are; you’ve stuck around long enough by now.”

“And I’ve seen some truly incredible things,” the Commander agrees. “I’m happy for you, Steve, I really am. If someone had told me two years ago that you’d be working so easily with Shifters, I think I might have laughed at them. Or called for an eval.”

“It hasn’t exactly been easy.” Shaking his head, Steve snorts at the memories of the early weeks, when Five-0 was just beginning to come together – the distrust and suspicion that grew to admiration, and then to friendship as he worked side-by-side with some of the most incredible people he’s ever come to know, both as an active SEAL and in the Reserves. He went on missions with brave, strong men and women. He’s done things that still haunt his dreams and shadow his days at his weakest moments; he’d trust his pack with those horrors just as quickly as he’d trust the people who followed him through hell and back. “They’re a determined bunch, I’ll give them that.”

“Some of them more than others,” Joe agrees. He knows about Danny, about _them_ , and there isn’t an ounce of judgement on his face. The pride warms Steve and makes him smile, shy and boyish. It makes him want to squirm, so he reaches over and grabs the stuffed animal instead and feels no shame when he sits back on the bed and rests it on his lap. After a minute, he starts to play with its soft, floppy ears, smiling to himself and rubbing one between his fingers. It gives him something to do, and it’s a small comfort that he tries not to think about too hard. He never would have let anyone see him like this, once. He had duties and responsibilities; he couldn’t afford to show weakness. He still can’t, not all of the time, but here, in this moment, Steve allows himself to soften just a little bit. Just enough for his uncle Joe to reach over and squeeze his shoulder rather than his Commander.

“Your father would be very proud of you right now, son,” he says softly, gently. “Your grandfather, too. It would have warmed his heart to see his grandpup so at ease around his kin.”

That snaps Steve’s attention away from the light gray dog he’s squeezing between his hands. He looks at Joe and frowns. “Grandpup?”

Joe shrugs and sits back, but Steve knows what he’s doing; they’ve had this dance before. Joe knows something, something he’s kept from Steve _for his own good_ , no doubt. Now he thinks Steve is ready to hear it, so he’s offering the branch for him to take or ignore. He’s not at all ashamed of how quickly he grabs the metaphorical line, leaning forward and waiting for more. When Joe sees his eagerness, he nods in understanding and explains.

“Your grandfather was a Shifter, Steve. So was your grandmother. You never got to meet them, but your father told me about them.”

Somehow, the news makes a lot more sense than Steve would have once allowed. His father wasn’t one to share a lot of information unless it got pried out of him with a crowbar; he didn’t talk much about Steve’s grandparents. All he knows is that his grandfather died on the Arizona, a hero in the eyes of his country, and his grandmother had died not very long after from a broken heart. “What were their Shifts?” he asks breathlessly, _hungrily_. Two years ago he might have launched himself at Joe for a fight, denied it all furiously and _fought_ just so he wouldn’t have to accept it because Shifters were something to kill. They were an enemy he would cut down ruthlessly; like hell would he have accepted being the descendant of one, two years ago.

Steve isn’t the same man he was two years ago.

“Timber wolves.” Crossing his legs, Joe smiles as his eyes go hazy and distant, like he’s remembering something. “Your father used to have pictures of their Shifts. He boasted about it, even though he didn’t have a Shift. Your aunt Deb does, but she doesn’t Shift outside of necessity from what your father said. She’s happier to keep to her human skin.”

“Why didn’t it pass through to us?” Steve asks curiously. It would have changed a lot of things, if he’d been born with a Shift beneath his skin; if life and necessity hadn’t borne a beast in his chest that was a mixture of rage and instinct. It’s not the same as a Shift, not even close, but it’s all Steve had once he gave his life to the Navy. It’s what kept him alive all those years.

“Sometimes it doesn’t, you know that,” Joe replies with a shrug. “Your mother wasn’t a Shifter, so the chances of you or Mary having Shifts wasn’t high with the bloodlines mixed like that. However, you’ve both inherited _something_ , that’s easy enough to see.” At Steve’s frustrated head shake, the Commander uncrosses his legs and leans forward. He rests his elbows on his knees and fixes Steve with a look he can’t break away from. It doesn’t feel like when Danny looks at him – Joe isn’t carving his way down to Steve’s bones, but it’s an intense look all the same. “Even if a Shift doesn’t pass, the instincts still can.” His voice is low and serious, all traces of humor gone, but the warmth never leaves. “Your grandparents passed along everything you’d need to survive, Steve. They gave you their instincts, even if they couldn’t give you a second skin. Your instincts are better than most, and you know it. You can sense when a Shifter is nearby; something I can’t do, not until they Shift.”

“Everyone can sense them,” Steve protests, but Joe shakes his head.

“Maybe, in small ways,” he agrees. “But I’ve never met a man who can tell from a distance like you can. Your instincts are sharper; you’re faster, stronger, better equipped at fighting and survival. It made you the perfect SEAL; it’s made you into a good man.”

“So, what, I’m part Shifter?” Steve knows that not everyone in a Shifter family is always born with a Shift; everyone knows that, even if no one can explain why. Chin isn’t a Shifter, but Kono is; her Shift came from her mother’s side, and some of her aunts and uncles can’t shift. Only a few people in the Kelly-Kalakaua family have a Shift, according to the cousins. From what Danny’s told him, everyone in his family is a Shifter, but it’s not always like that.

“I’ve heard of Shiftless descendants being called Primals,” Joe muses, breaking the thoughtful silence that’s settled between them. “You weren’t the only one serving your country; I’ve met a few others. You were the best I’ve seen, though. Your instincts are beyond anything I could have expected when you were growing up, Steve. And since you’ve come home, since you met Danny, they’ve gotten even better.”

That makes Steve pause. He thinks about how he’s changed since meeting Danny; how his instincts have grown and responded with the Shifter at his side. He’s so in-tune with his partner that it should be terrifying. Even at the beginning, when animosity colored the majority of their interactions, there was _something_ between them. Danny has told him repeatedly that no one has ever tested his control the way Steve does; for him, it’s been the same. He’s never reacted to anyone the way Danny makes him react. Even Catherine – strong, beautiful Catherine – never settled the beast in his chest as easily as making it rage. Danny can cloud his thoughts and clear them almost in the same breath, and Steve knows he’s done the same to the blonde. They can be at each other’s throats or curled around one another; they can kiss just as easily as bite, and Steve _hungers_ for it. He lives for the fight, for the inevitable thrill of victory or surrender; for someone he _can_ surrender to just as easily as he can carry them when they need it.

No one has ever given him that except for Danny.

“The day Hesse stabbed me, Danny said he felt it.” He whispers it like a secret, like Joe wasn’t _there_ , at Danny’s side, when the blade went into Steve. “It’s how he knew something had gone wrong.”

“Some Shifts mate for life,” Joe says just as quietly. Beyond the door to Steve’s room, doctors and nurses bustle back and forth to care for patients. A few peek into the room, but no one tries to interrupt what is clearly a private conversation, and for that, Steve is grateful. “Your grandparents did. It’s why your grandmother passed away so soon after your grandfather did; living without her other half wasn’t an option. A bond like that isn’t as common, but it happens. And from my understanding, sharing things like emotions, or pain, is part of it..”

“Danny’s a pitbull, not a wolf,” Steve protests, even though the thought makes him _yearn_. Being tied to someone, to _Danny_ , like that; it makes need and desire churn in his gut. It makes a lot of things happen, some of which he’s not quite ready to come to terms with yet, but he wants to. Oh fuck, does he want to, and that should be a lot more terrifying than it is. Danny’s already under Steve’s skin, he’s already firmly lodged into the darkest shadows of Steve’s soul; he’s not going away, not if he’s braved all of that and decided to stay anyway. He came all the way to North Korea to bring Steve home. He shifted and tore people apart, for _Steve_. He let Steve see him, _truly_ see him, and it’s not the way either of them had planned on it happening but he can’t find it in himself to feel regretful. It was the final collision of their worlds, the meteor strike that blew all reservations away. Danny has trusted Steve with every last part of him, and Steve will cherish it all without hesitation. He loves Danny, he fucking _loves_ him, Shift and all. Nothing will change that.

Something warm and loving thrums in his chest, something that feels like _home_ and _pack_ and has the beautiful promise of _mate_.

“Love is love, no matter what,” Joe retorts with another one of his knowing smiles. “Dogs can easily choose one mate and stay by their side, and Danny is a man as well as a Shifter. That’s his choice, if he wants to make it. If he wants to stay with you, he’ll stay with you.” The Commander leans back again and tilts his head, amusement twinkling in his eyes as he watches Steve smile down at the stuffed animal he’s still fiddling with. “Something tells me you won’t protest too much, son.”

“No,” Steve agrees. He can’t stop smiling, and it feels like the shadows in his mind are farther away than they’ve ever been. “I won’t.”

A comfortable silence settles around them, leaving them both to their thoughts until Joe speaks again. “You’re allowed to be happy, Steve,” he says with so much raw, genuine earnestness that Steve feels his eyes burn. He blinks stubbornly and pretends he doesn’t see the shine in his oldest friend’s eyes while they pull themselves together respectively; two men swallowing their emotions the way they were taught while still saying everything that could ever need to be said. “In fact,” the Commander continues, his mouth quirking into a crooked grin that Steve is all too familiar with, “if you don’t let yourself be happy this time, I’m going to have to kick your ass.”

“Duly noted, sir.” Steve snaps to attention and gives the man his best salute and a wicked grin, and their laugher fills the room and chases away the tension that’s thickened the air, bringing lightness and the promise of new beginnings that, really, aren’t all that new when Steve thinks about it.

It feels good.

 

\--

 

“Joe says I’m a Primal,” Steve blurts out the next time the door opens and Danny’s short, stocky body fills the space. The Shifter pauses and blinks at him, caught off guard, but Grace doesn’t slow down. She barrels across the room and up onto the bed, tackling her “uncle” Steve and clinging to him like the monkey Danny affectionately calls her. Steve immediately curls around the little girl he’s come to love like his own, breathing in her sweet scent and rumbling soothingly. Grace whines back just as quietly, wriggling into a more comfortable position, and Steve looks up through the long, soft hair tickling across his face to see Danny’s expression melt into one of pure joy as he watches his pup and his partner find comfort with one another.

“She literally would not stop barking at Rachel until she agreed to let her come,” the Detective explains as he closes the door behind him. He takes the chair Joe had sat in yesterday, slouching and rubbing his bare arms against the armrests in an unsubtle attempt to mark the chair with his own scent. Steve chuckles and gets a pointed look shot toward him, so he tucks his face against the side of Grace’s head and hums quietly until her – impressively strong – grip around his neck relaxes and she stops whining. Once she’s sitting back to look him over critically, Steve grins in response to her somber expression and brings up his dog to boop its hard, plastic nose against hers. She laughs and snatches it from him, cuddling the stuffed animal and squirming until she’s curled up on his lap. Steve gets an elbow in his ribs but he doesn’t even care because he’s missed Grace. She hasn’t been allowed to visit, a decision made by both her mother and the doctors. They didn’t want Steve to have any visitors until he was completely healed, but he fought them on that until his team and Joe were allowed to come and see him while he recovered. It would seem that they’ve encouraged the staff to bend the rules finally, and Danny must have gotten through to Rachel. Gracie is a warm, comforting weight on his legs and Steve can’t help but nuzzle her and chuff quietly until she giggles again.

“So, a Primal, huh?” Danny says once everyone is settled and Grace has filled Steve in on everything he’s missed in her life while he’s been getting better. She tells him about how she and Danny shifted and ran along the beach behind his house, something that fills Steve with so much pride and love he feels like it’s going to burst through his skin. As far as he knows, it’s the first time Danny has ever let Grace shift away from the safety of her home. The fact that it was Steve’s territory tells him more than any words ever could – the way Danny looks at him while Grace talks about playing tag along the water conveys everything they cannot say in front of his nine-year-old daughter.

“I think it makes sense.” Steve shrugs but he bites his lip, looking at Danny and feeling a strange hesitance stir in his chest. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it since Joe left, and it _does_ make sense. It makes so much sense in all of the right ways; it also means that Steve came so close to being a Shifter, but he never quite made it. Will that make a difference to Danny? He’s not used to feeling so uncertain – his team called him Smooth Dog for a reason – but all of this is so new to him. He’s not where he thinks he should be in terms of his emotional recovery, compartmentalizing be damned, but it doesn’t really matter in the end. It _doesn’t_ , because Steve always recovers. He plows ahead, all systems _go_ , because he doesn’t have time in his daily life to fracture and fall apart – even when it happens anyway. He does know that he’s been more stable in the last year with Danny at his side no matter what hiccups they’ve stumbled over, and honestly he’s not willing to give that up even if his doctors and the psychiatrist fuss that he’s not taking the time in his recovery that they think he should.

Like he’s read Steve’s mind, Danny leans close enough to bump their foreheads together. He nuzzles Steve’s cheek and chuffs quietly at him, a noise that sounds so incredibly fond that Steve grins and the cold worry inside of him thaws a little. “You’re a mess, babe,” the Shifter says with amusement, his lips quirking into a crooked smirk against Steve’s stubbled cheek. Steve grumbles at him and Danny nips his nose, a sharp pain that takes him by surprise and makes him jerk his head back.

“Hey!”

“I can practically hear your thoughts racing, Steven. Enough of that.” Danny crowds in close again, doing his best to slide up onto the bed with Steve and Grace – who is watching with quiet interest, her big eyes intensely focused on them. Their shoulders bump and his partner feels so warm and alive; Steve never noticed just how _hot_ Danny burns. He’s like his own furnace, heating the air between them and pressing along Steve’s side, his chin on the SEAL’s shoulder until that warmth seeps under his skin and relaxes his muscles. “This doesn’t change anything, you know,” Danny tells him firmly. He presses a kiss to the hinge of Steve’s jaw; another to the corner of his mouth, the Shifter’s breath scented with coffee and something sweet. “Human, Shifter, Primal; you’re still a goof. You’re still _my_ goof, you got that?”

“Is this what love smells like?” Grace asks suddenly, her little nose wrinkled while she scents the air. Steve jolts like he’s been shocked and Danny’s head drops onto his shoulder heavily, a noise like a strangled laugh caught behind his teeth.

“Isn’t this what Mommy and Stan smell like?” he retorts without any heat, lifting his head to give his daughter a sharp grin that she returns without hesitation.

“Not exactly,” she says with a shrug. “They smell different. It’s _kinda_ similar, but… not. It’s like sea surf and green places, whereas Mommy and Stan smell like coffee and vanilla.”

Danny stares at his daughter while Steve covers his mouth, trying not to laugh too loudly. “That’s… actually pretty apt,” he admits between chuckles when blue eyes turn to glare at him. Danny huffs and throws his hands up and Steve can see him gearing up for a rant, but Grace butts in before he can start slinging words and gesturing wildly.

“Uncle Steve, do you want to see my Shift?”

It hits him like a punch to the solar plexus, knocking the air out of him for a moment and leaving Steve gaping as he tries to breathe. His eyes must be as wide as saucers when he looks at Danny, _hoping_ , because he’d love nothing more right now than to see Grace’s Shift.

Well, there’s a few things he _would_ enjoy more, but none of them are very appropriate considering their current company. Those things definitely involve Danny and a bed, maybe after seeing _his_ Shift one more time, just so Steve can drink him in when he’s not covered in violence and revenge, painted up like some vengeful god and too fucking beautiful to ever accurately put into words.

A sharp elbow in his ribs jars Steve out of his less-than-innocent thoughts and he looks at Danny again; sees the amusement and the hunger glimmering in the darkest depths of blue, blue eyes, hidden carefully by approval and a love so powerful it steals Steve’s breath all over again.

“Of _course_ I want to see your Shift, monkey,” he says, giving Grace a grin that’s full of pride when she scrambles off the bed.

“Clothes,” Danny reminds her in a tone that suggests maybe, once or twice, she’s _accidentally_ forgotten what happens when Shifters change forms. She looks sheepish – a telling enough admittance – and bolts for the bathroom, leaving the door cracked enough that she can nose it open once she’s shifted.

“I love you,” he whispers, looking out of his window instead of at Danny because they’ve said it before, of course they have, but Steve can’t get over just how _much_ he feels it. It’s too much for one person, it has to be, and yet it sits beneath his skin and makes the beast in his chest rumble pleasantly when Danny’s breath hitches and a warm nose presses against his jugular.

“Forever, babe,” the Shifter reminds him hoarsely. Steve’s heart thumps and he swallows heavily, _eagerly_ , before he nods.

“Promise,” he rumbles, shifting his attention to the bathroom door when he hears the telltale sound of bones cracking and readjusting.

“Promise.” Danny says it like a _vow_ , and Steve nods because there’s nothing else that needs to be said, even if the words are clawing up his throat in a desperate bid at freedom. He swallows them back because a little black nose is shoving against the bathroom door, prying it open for the prettiest little pitbull puppy he's ever seen to come spilling out into the room. Grace is a wriggling little body with petite paws and a white chest.

“Look at you, monkey!”

They’ve got plenty of time to say anything and everything later. For now, Steve reaches over without care for the injuries that are still healing and scoops Grace into his arms, beaming so brightly he could power all of O’ahu when a soft tongue rolls across his chin. Danny looks at him with pride, satisfaction, _love_ , and Steve knows that no matter what, they’ll be okay.

They have each other, after all. Their little _o’hana_ of three.


End file.
